Alexandra Sokoloff - The Harrowing

He picked up the printout of the ritual, then hesitated, glancing at Robin, a stark, uncertain look. She met his eyes, mouthed Yes .

With an almost graceful formality, Robin, Cain, and Lisa all took their places at the points of the pentagram Cain had drawn—the Qlippah squirming in its chair on the fourth point, Patrick’s body tied to the chair on the fifth.

Robin stared down at the chalked pentagram, and despite her apprehension, she felt a rush of something like excitement. There was a palpable energy about the ancient symbol—a sense of power and infinity. It worked for someone, all those years ago. Maybe it can work for us .

Cain looked down at the printout they had made of the Key of Solomon .

“First we mix our blood.”

Robin and Lisa blanched as he lifted the knife and cut his palm, then stepped forward and let the blood spill into the bowl he had placed in the pentagram on the center of the table.

“Why don’t we all hump instead?” The Martin-thing suggested, pumping its hips upward spastically. “That’ll bond us.”

This is what evil is , Robin realized. So close to human, but a perversion of all that is human. I understand now.

Cain passed the knife to Robin. The blade gleamed. She clenched the knife in one hand and

sliced into her palm. The sharp pain was almost surprising. She thought briefly, After all this, I wonder if I’ll ever feel again .

She held her palm over the bowl, felt her pulse throb in the wound. The blood flowed black into the metal bowl, mixing with Cain’s.

Robin looked to Lisa, unsure of how she’d handle it, but Lisa didn’t hesitate. She stepped forward and slashed her palm grimly, looking down at Martin with eyes like ice.

Then Cain took the knife from her and cut into Patrick’s stiffening palm, squeezed the dead flesh together to force blood into the bowl.

When he turned to Martin, the Qlippah started to thrash in the chair, ranting. “Nooo… stay away, scum….” Its voice turned to a deep, mindless bellow, like the lowing of an ox.

Cain grabbed one of the hands bound tightly to Martin’s chest and cut into it. Robin stepped quickly beside him to catch the dripping blood in the bowl.

The Qlippah’s bellows turned to crooning. “Ahhh…lovely…deeper… cut me….”

Cain turned with the bowl of blood and placed it on the table, then stepped back to stand at his point of the pentagram. Robin and Lisa moved into their points.

Cain lifted the book and read in a strong, clear voice.

“We come together in the name of the Unknowable Unknown to banish this unclean thing from the body of our friend Martin Seltzer.”

The candles flickered on the mantel as if on an altar. With fingers pressed together, Cain touched his forehead, the center of his chest, his right shoulder, and then his left shoulder as he recited from the book, his eyes intense as a priest’s:

“ Ateh…Malkuth…ve Geburah…ve Gedulah …”

The Qlippah spat at them, writhing in its chair. “This little Jewish ritual didn’t help poor little Zachary and his poor little friends, though, did it?”

Robin and Lisa looked into each other’s eyes and followed Cain’s hand motions on their own bodies, speaking over the Qlippah in concert with Cain.

“ Ateh…Malkuth…ve Geburah…ve Gedulah …”

The Qlippah convulsed in Martin’s body, screaming over them in a rage.

“They burned . They screamed as they burned .…”

Cain looked straight at the squirming creature, clasped his hand on his chest, speaking over it.

“ Le-Olahm, Amen .”

Robin was struck by the power in his voice, even as she and Lisa clasped their hands on their chests, repeating firmly, “ Le-Olahm, Amen .”

The rappings started again, a wave of knocking in the ceiling and walls. The chair underneath Martin rattled in tandem, bucking on the floor.

Lisa backed off her point of the pentagram, staring around at the walls, her eyes wide and glazed. The walls bulged with the pounding.

The Qlippah giggled horribly. “You’re next, Lisa. I’m coming for you. Coming all over you—”

Cain shouted, “Lisa!”

Lisa whirled to face them, unseeing. “No…” She bolted toward the arched door of the lounge. Robin lunged and grabbed her arms. Lisa struggled against her in sheer terror. “It can’t—we can’t—it can’t work.”

Robin shouted in Lisa’s face, her voice rising above the rappings, above the laughter. “Lisa. Think . None of this is possible at all, but it’s happening.” For a moment, Lisa’s eyes seemed to register.

Martin’s eyes grew crafty, the Qlippah shining through them, rippling on his face. “You’re going to die to save this pathetic Shell? He betrayed you. He knew what I am, and he used you to call me—”

Lisa flinched, looked toward Martin’s heaving body. He flung his words at Lisa. “He used you, and Cowboy died for it.”

Robin spoke fiercely, her voice raw. “Don’t listen. It lies.” She dug her fingers into Lisa’s arms. “We have to believe it. We have to do it. For Patrick. For Martin.”

Behind them, the Qlippah bellowed. “LISAAAA…”

Lisa twisted out of Robin’s grasp with a guttural cry, but she faced the Qlippah, eyes blazing. “Fuck you.” She stalked back to her point of the pentagram. Robin followed and the three of them took the same breath.

Cain stepped forward to the table, dipped his fingers in the bowl of blood.

He turned to the east and traced a pentagram in the air in front of him. Then he extended his hands in front of him, palms outward, clenched his hands, and pulled them suddenly open, as if pulling aside a set of curtains. He called out fiercely, “ We open the portal of fire! ”

Fire jumped in the hearth, blazing upward with a roar. Robin and Lisa gasped. All around the room, the candles flared up. Even the light in the Coleman lantern leapt, beating against the glass.

Martin started to spit and writhe in the chair, bellowing inhumanly. Lightning cracked in the sky outside, lighting up the corners of the blankets covering the windows.

Cain and Lisa stood still, stupefied. Robin stared around her at the rush of light, the live fire.

She realized Cain was looking at her, waiting for her to continue. She forced herself to unfreeze, to move. She stepped forward to dip her fingers into the bowl of blood.

She turned to the south, traced a pentagram in the air, and called out clearly, “ We open the portal of air! ”

She extended her hands in front of her, clasped them, and pulled them apart, as if ripping aside a set of curtains.

A wind rushed through the room, a roar in her ears…as if a huge door had opened to the elements. Robin had to brace her feet on the floor and lean forward against the wind. She saw Cain and Lisa doing the same. She was dizzy, almost deaf from the howling.

It’s working , she thought in wild disbelief. We’re doing something…

Martin twisted, convulsing, moaning in pain.

Cain called out over the howling of the wind. “Lisa!”

Lisa struggled forward through the wind, dipped her fingers in the bowl of blood, and turned to the west. She was shaking as she traced the pentagram, but her voice was strong.

“ We open the portal of water! ”

She extended her hands in front of her and pulled them apart.

Outside, thunder boomed, shaking the sky. Rain started to fall in a torrent, driving into the ground. The rapping started again, intensifying. The Qlippah bucked in its chair, howling with the wind.

Robin felt herself start to go numb with the unreality of it, her mind almost pleasantly detaching from the bizarreness around her. From far away, she caught a glimpse of Lisa’s face, white as a sheet but abstracted, puzzled….